http://www.thesixtyone.com/#/epiqsnax/song/Being+Used/75781/

[V1]

Roses may be red, violets may be blue

But your heart and soul are black, so fuck you

There was a time, time where we were damn close

But you were dating, dating some hairy grandiose

Ugly as fuck older homey, fat and big and awfully phony

Before him, you were dating a bigger dick than wieners at Coney

I didn’t get your choices, I put it behind me

It’s the past, go from whiny and grimy to kindly and shiny

Find me, on Facebook, two hour conversations

And I KNEW there was something, a real conjugation

So I ask you out, thinkin’ y’know, what the fuck

Then you shot me down like a one winged duck

Now, I don’t mean to be all egotistical

But I am irresistible, cleaner than an Episcopal

Like briskin’ a bull, it’s a risk, I know, but imma letcha have my feelings

You act like it’s alright to juss break me down, like, really?

So at that point in time, I started heavy on the liquor

And my big descent started goin’ quicker and quicker

What astonishes me, honestly, is the fact that

You act like nothing happened, you’re a quack, like Aflac

(Chorus)

You treat me so kind

You treat me so badly

You talk to me happy

You talk to me sadly

I’m confuuuuuused, yeah! Yeah! I’m confuuuuuused

And I’m one lonely homey, so tired of being used

I’m being uuuuuused, yeah, by you, by you (4x)

[V2]

The summer passed, and so did my anger

But I knew my happiness would probably topple, like Jenga

So I, tried being nice, started going well

I saw what I had first seen in you, and my heart fell

But I wouldn’t get trapped (NO SIR!), like a rat

Unfortunately, a week later, you dated just that

A RAT! A greasy underclassman, ego way up, up the ass, man

And not cute at all, and yo, if you don’t mind me askin’

Is your vision impaired? Same with your sense of character?

Being all catty all over the place, like errant fur

What makes me baffled is that you’re not a whore!

You’re a smart, funny person with a lot going for…

…her, I’m unsure if you know the done damage

I wasn’t just hungry for you, I was famished

So imma keep my distance just for a while

Hopefully in that time you don’t date a crocodile

You told me you didn’t want someone to be with

Turn around and get with the rat, like JESUS!

Is it just me, or is that not insane?

Backstabbing, I’m that mad, B, let the chorus rain

(Chorus)

• Remix of Hotstylz’ Lookin Boy named Letta Boy
• A song with a very militaristic beat (DIY prod by myself) entitled When I Die
• A song over GZA’s Pencil, produced by Mathematics. Dunno the title yet, I decide what the title is as I’m writing the lyrics.
• (MAYBE) Remix of Sean Paul’s “Press it Up” called “Rip S**t Up”

Snippet of lyrics from When I Die:

And when I die, don’t cry, don’t fake sadness

I got enough madness gon’ on in my brain, I restrain

Erry day, from bein strange

I maintain, the best I cayne (can), mayne (man)

Fame came to everyone else, and now they’re mainstream

At my funeral, play Tical: The Prequel

And talk shit about me like they mouth was fecal

You can check it out here: http://www.thesixtyone.com/#/epiqsnax/song/My+Thoughts/72868/ also contains a download link.

Lyrics:

S-Substantiality, that’s what this game’s all about

And if you don’t like it, like Mike did, get some Fishscale, dude, like a trout

You got these Soulja Boys and GS Boyz and New Boys makin’ noise

But their lyrics are just rubbish, having absolutely no poise

This is insane, how high they’re getting on the charts

And how the hell they’re winning over the record label’s hearts

When there’s so much real talent being swept under the rug

That have a passion, while the “Boys” have a fascism, music’s a drug

I find it pretty funny how they’re rolling in the Benjamins

While I’m valedictorian, they’ll have to take French again

I’m in New England, they’re in Japan adventurin’

They date the supermodels, and I get Judi Dench again

(haha) Pull out the socket wrench, my friend

And do a tune-up on your brain, got more holes than donuts, Entenmanns

So here I am, letting my heart and brain out on paper

And this beat is so seductive, I just hope that I don’t rape her

(Chorus) [X2]

You don’t wanna hear my thoughts

Cause they’re a string, so convoluted into knots

This music here, my release, not using lines older than the movie Grease

If this music were a blanket, it’d be softer than a fleece

Obviously, for those pop rappers, the glove doesn’t fit

But there’s unequivocally, absolutely no way I’ll acquit

They are charged for first-degree murder of hip hop

And my thoughts are we execute them, time for chip-chop

And for those who stick up to them, I will bet the nation

That they’re 100 times worse than this here Alphabetization

But the thing is, they’ve got a thousand times more listeners

So what you gotta do is tell your parents, tell your sisters

Spread it round, like syphilis, tell your homeys 17’s rippin’ this

Grippin his mic, flippin it like, pancakes and he’s whippin this

Like it’s cream, like Wu-Tang, trey-to-the-six Chambers

I believe I got the W here, like the 97 Rangers

But wait! That’s not all! I’m sounding like a ShamWow commercial

One more thing, and this thought’s hot, like a Fire Marshal

You don’t have to bottle up your feelings, man, just let them go

And this is how I do it, through this music, it’s what I chose.

(Chorus) [X2]

I’m compiling a new EP called Alphabetization. The first song released off it was My Thoughts.

My music can be exclusively followed here: http://www.thesixtyone.com/#/epiqsnax/

Thanks!

-17-